


Five Times Coulson Didn’t Treat Steve Like His Childhood Hero (and Five Times Steve Was Turned On)

by storiesfortravellers



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: BDSM, Bondage, Community: kink_bingo, Fanboy Phil Coulson, Humor, In Public, Kink, Kink Shame, M/M, Romance, Submission, Voyeurism, winter soldier - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-15
Updated: 2013-09-15
Packaged: 2017-12-26 15:33:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/967632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storiesfortravellers/pseuds/storiesfortravellers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the field, Coulson is a badass agent who treats Steve like a soldier and an ordinary guy. Everywhere else, Coulson is an adoring fanboy who idealizes Steve, which is putting a serious damper on Steve's increasingly explicit fantasies about being dominated by Coulson.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Times Coulson Didn’t Treat Steve Like His Childhood Hero (and Five Times Steve Was Turned On)

**Author's Note:**

> For nevcolleil for the prompt on comment-fic on lj: "Kill Your Heroes"

1\. “I’m going to make a run for the entry,” Steve said into his comm. Civilians were being held hostage, but there were armed guards preventing anyone from getting close. Unfortunately, the hostage takers seemed to be starting to panic, and Steve knew that that didn’t mean anything good.

“Negative, Rogers, stay put,” Coulson said in an authoritative voice. Coulson in the field sounded nothing like when he was asking Steve for autographs.

Steve lifted his shield and got ready to make his move anyway. Despite how much he had always wanted to be a soldier, he never really got a hang of that following orders thing.

But Coulson’s voice came over the comms again. “Widow and Hawkeye just arrived on scene. They think they can get in through the ceiling glass. Provide distraction for the outer layer of guards.”

“Yes, sir,” Steve said immediately. Truthfully, having two more operatives there made it drastically more likely that all the hostages would get out. And it was a relief; Steve had been working with SHIELD and the Avengers for six months now, and Coulson had yet to give him an order not worth following.

Steve was starting to really like working under Coulson.

He threw his shield and knocked out two gunmen, drawing the fire of the guards to himself. He smiled; he was behind solid cover, and soon the hostages would be far away.

\--

At the celebration dinner after the successful mission – all the hostages safe and sound – they went to a gastropub. Everyone was happy and relaxed until Steve ordered the meatloaf and Coulson grinned. 

“Meatloaf is Captain America’s favorite meal,” Coulson said to Clint and Natasha, as if he were discussing trivia or history. Which, Steve realized, he kind of was.

Natasha and Clint looked at each other and smirked. They found it adorable and rather hilarious when Coulson got like this, Steve knew. Clint even called the whole situation “Coulson’s nerd-on hard-on.” Only behind Phil’s back, obviously.

“Let me guess,” Clint said to Steve, “Apple pie for dessert?”

“You would think so,” Coulson said before Steve could answer, “But his favorite is ice cream.”

“I don’t know,” Steve said. “I like to try new things. I mean, people change.” 

“Do they change enough for you to try the chili pepper and rosemary bacon cinnamon cake for dessert?” Natasha asked with a smile.

“No, not quite that much,” Steve said.

Coulson laughed loudly. “Good one, Steve!” He said ‘Steve’ like he always did when they talked socially, drawing out the word, as if he couldn’t believe he was on a first name basis with Captain America.

Steve smiled politely and concentrated on sipping his ice water. It was hard enough getting used to his adoring fans in the past, but at least that wasn’t much different than being a celebrity, despite the way that army publicized his service. But Steve didn’t have any idea how to react to grown adults – older than him – who grew up with Captain America as their hero.

He was grateful Coulson put all of that aside when they were working. It was like Coulson was two different people: the kind and understanding agent who competently handled SHIELD business but would always make Steve feel like more of a poster than a person, and the guy in the field – the badass who saw Steve, warts and stupidity and all, and used that knowledge to make sure everyone came home. 

Steve knew that it was good that Coulson could compartmentalize. He just wished sometimes that he could spend a little more time with that second Coulson.

 

2\. People didn’t go to clubs like this in Steve’s day and age.

Or rather, they did. Steve just wasn’t cool enough to know where clubs like this were, so he had only read about them in magazines. 

There were dozens of rooms, some private, some with special windows so that anyone could watch. Men tied up with ropes, some with chains. A man being spanked with a belt in one room, in the next a ritualistic shaving of a man wearing nothing but a studded collar, in the next a man getting candlewax poured on him as he writhed and begged for more. 

Steve could feel his heart beat faster watching them, could feel the stress of it. He was sweating, something that almost never happened with mere physical activity.

Steve watched various rooms, until he finally started to wonder how he could get into one of the private rooms with someone. He wasn’t sure if you were supposed to come to the club with a partner or if it was possible to meet someone there, and he was a bit terrified to ask. 

Before he could decide what to do, he noticed a man in a domino mask stand next to him, apparently watching the same action through the window that Steve was. There were two men tied together, and they were both sucking their shared master’s cock at the same time. 

The man next to him didn’t appear to be a threat (always a soldier, this was something Steve had to think about, even here). So Steve didn’t pay him much attention for the several minutes while they watched.

Finally, the man cleared his throat. 

Steve turned and realized who it was. Even with the mask, Steve could see now: Coulson.

“Ummm…” Steve said. He tried to think of something else to say, but nothing arrived.

“I’m sorry, Steve. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” he said, and there was something in his voice, a cool firmness. Not that slightly pinched tone that Coulson sometimes had when Steve didn’t live up to Coulson’s childhood image of heroics. Steve wondered if that meant Coulson was here on official business.

Coulson continued, “Obviously, I enjoy these activities. So clearly, there is no judgment and total discretion. From me. But when I saw you, I thought I should inform you that this club…. It’s known for leaks. Celebrities who come here end up with videos online. I’m sure you can guess the kind.”

A wave of panic swept over Steve’s face, but Coulson said, “I’ve told everyone that there’s a really good Captain America impersonator here. So… don’t be surprised if someone tries to pay you to lick your boots or something. But otherwise you should be okay. Just… don’t make this particular club a regular spot, okay?”

Steve nodded. “I, um, appreciate that.” He was nervous. He knew rationally that he had no reason to be ashamed. But he was. Not just for what he wanted, but for being silly enough to think he wouldn’t be recognized. 

Also, he was pretty sure that just by being seen here, with a none-too-subtle hard-on, he had destroyed Coulson’s childhood. 

Even if it was nice that Coulson was protecting him. 

But then Steve’s privacy was a SHIELD issue. So he was getting take-charge Coulson. 

He wondered if that’s what Coulson was doing here – taking charge. Or if, like Steve, he preferred to give up control. 

But Coulson was content to walk away and leave him to his privacy. Steve took the opportunity to flee the club and walk home, not willing to stay long enough to ask any questions.

 

3\. “I’m leaving,” Steve said. Fury had put him in protective custody after HYDRA had declared Steve their number one target and put an enormous bounty on his head – and publicized it. Now, every civilian who needed money or liked the idea of knocking off a superhero was trying to take a shot at him. 

Steve understood the logic of making him stay in the Tower. It wasn’t just to protect Steve – it was to protect all the innocent bystanders who would be hurt when bullets starting flying around Steve’s vicinity. 

But Steve hadn’t left the building in two weeks. He was about ten degrees past cabin fever, but even more than that, he hated the idea of letting the rest of the team take on HYDRA without him. It felt like letting others fighting his battles for him (it felt like when they wouldn’t let him into the army because of his health; it felt like every time Bucky had to come to his rescue because he couldn’t pay the checks his mouth wrote). 

Coulson was going over some intel files with Steve, but Steve knew a baby-sitter when he saw one. 

“I need to be out there,” Steve said, “And I’m going.”

“I’m afraid you can’t, Captain Rogers.”

“I’m sorry, Agent Coulson, but you’re not stopping me.” Steve knew he was strong enough to incapacitate Coulson without doing him harm. He started heading toward the door.

Coulson pulled out his Taser. “Captain, I’ve modified the voltage to take down someone with your physiological advantages. So you can sit down and relax and have a pleasant evening or you can spend this time quivering on the floor in your own drool and urine.” He said it pleasantly, but without any sense that he was kidding.

“You wouldn’t Taser your hero,” Steve said.

“I would if he were being a stubborn asshole planning on getting himself killed. By the way, I’ve studied the reflex times of everyone on my team. And yes, I can push the button before you can incapacitate me.” Coulson had a glint in his eyes, almost as if he were enjoying the conversation.

Steve paused. He shook his head and smiled. “Well, I guess that answers my question.”

“What question, Captain?”

“If you’re toppy.”

Coulson blushed. But he kept on track. “Captain, please return to the living room. Or else.”

Steve frowned, but after a moment said, “Fine. But I want a meeting with Fury tomorrow about this whole situation.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Coulson said and gestured toward the living room. 

Steve sighed and walked over to the couch and sat down. Strict-Coulson was pretty hot. It was just a shame he was such a pain in the ass.

 

4\. The door to Steve’s room opened just slightly. “Steve,” Coulson said gently.

Steve said nothing, just sat on the floor by his bed. Coulson walked over and sat down next to him. It looked strange, somehow, to see Phil with his perfect suit and perfect posture slouching against the side of the bed next to him. 

“I understand what has to be done,” Steve said, voice thick. He was doing his best not to burst into tears in front of a man who probably still had a Captain America action figure somewhere in his attic. 

“I’m sorry, Steve. But the things that the Winter Soldier has done, the things we believe he’s planning to do….”

Steve nodded and put his hand over his own mouth. It was true. Bucky had done things that Steve couldn’t understand. Had left bodies that Steve couldn’t even look at.

“I’ll track him down,” Steve said, voice cracking. “I’ll do my duty.” 

“Of course you would,” Coulson said. “But you shouldn’t have to. Your orders are to stay close to base in case another issue arises. Natasha has been assigned to take out the Winter Soldier.”

Steve’s heart sank. He cared about Natasha, considered her a friend. But he knew: Natasha’s targets never escaped. 

Apparently, when he said he was willing to kill Bucky, he was lying to himself.

Steve covered his eyes. He didn’t care that he was practically curled up in a fetal position on the floor. Coulson could find himself another damn hero if he didn’t like it.

“I’m so sorry you’re in this position, Steve,” Coulson said, though, rubbing a hand on Steve’s back. 

Steve wanted to tell Coulson to leave. He wanted to be alone and sit in the shower and sob, letting the hot water run down on him until it turned cold. 

Instead, he said, “I wouldn’t be here without Bucky.”

He waited for Coulson to nod knowingly, to confirm that he knew all the names of the Howling Commandos and the backstories of each. But Coulson just waited.

Steve said, “He used to hire local kids, back in Brooklyn, when I was small, he would hire kids to run and get him if they saw me getting my ass kicked. He paid them a dime if they did. I was so angry when I found out, but he didn’t care.”

“He sounds like a good friend.”

Steve tried to respond. But tears were streaming down his face, and he couldn’t stop them, couldn’t hide them.

He didn’t have to. Coulson was pulling him in, holding him, acting like there was nothing strange at all about Captain America weeping on the floor like a little boy.

They stayed there for a long time, until Steve fell asleep, his head in Coulson’s lap.

He dreamed of Bucky falling, again and again. Until finally, he dreamed of Coulson tying him to a bed, ignoring Steve as he struggled against the ropes, which, somehow, were able to hold him. He wasn’t able to move, but even though he fought the ropes, it was relief. For some reason he felt like nothing was his fault. 

When he woke up, his room was empty.

 

5\. Natasha didn’t kill the Winter Soldier. She decided to make a different call. 

Steve was beginning to think that every SHIELD agent got to do that once. Maybe as part of the benefits package.

But Bucky was alive and slowly remembering his old self. Natasha was helping him; Steve was pretty sure that there was something between them in the past, but Clint told him to “mind your beeswax” when he brought it up, and Steve figured he’d get an even worse reaction if he asked Natasha herself.

Agent Hill was handling the “Winter Soldier situation,” and Coulson continued to be the Avengers’ handler. The team was getting along pretty well, and aliens hadn’t invaded in several months.

Steve was feeling pretty hopeful. Like he was starting to get used to this century.

He decided to start flirting with Coulson.

At work, it got him a business-like redirection to mission-oriented conversation.

Outside of work, it got a confused smile. And then Coulson would decide it’s a good time to remind Steve that he still needs to sign those comic books for him. 

Steve was finding it rather frustrating. 

The solution came from the last person Steve expected. He was in the training room one afternoon when Bucky walked up to him to talk to him. When he was himself, Bucky hung out with the Avengers often, so he had a good sense of what was going on with all of them, but he mostly stuck to Natasha.

Steve normally only spoke to Bucky when Bucky made the approach; on any given day, Bucky might be more or less like the Winter Soldier, might remember Steve as a friend or an enemy. The psychologists had said that Bucky just needed lots of time, and Steve was grateful enough to have Bucky alive that he was willing to keep his distance until his old friend had majority control of his mind and body.

This time, Bucky wasn’t easy to read.

“You’re a moron,” Bucky said to Steve.

“Sorry?” Steve said. Though, if this turned out to be the Winter Soldier mocking him for not being able to save innocents, he would change his response to “Fuck off.”

“This is 1940 all over again,” Bucky said in exasperation.

Okay. This was the Bucky that remembered.

“Why exactly was I a moron in 1940?” Steve asked.

“So many reasons. But specifically how you were with girls.”

“They say ‘women’ now, Buck.”

“They say ‘men’ now too.”

“Um….” 

“Your flirtations with Coulson? Pathetic. Just like when we were in Brooklyn.”

“You weren’t this mean in 1940.”

“Yeah, that was before I became a murdering psychopath. It dulls the patience. Look, you’re too nice and pure and honorable, especially in Coulson’s eyes. You want someone to get dirty with you, you need to make it clear what you want.”

“I don’t think I would call it ‘getting dirty.’”

“You would if you’re doing it right. Buddy, you’re too polite for subtle flirtation to work. You have to go for it.” 

Steve sighed. “Here’s the thing. It’s like, half the time, I’m really into him. Half the time, he acts like….”

“A dumbass kid in love with his Captain America blanket from when he was five?”

“Yeah.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “We’ve all noticed. Tell him to knock it off and act like himself.”

“That is himself.”

“It’s not. Tell him to ditch the worship and start nailing you into the mattress.”

“Wow, you’re just like you were in the 40s too.”

“I appreciate that. Now stop being a moron and go get your man.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Fine. But if you spend too much time thinking about it, you’re going to have as little sex in this century as you did in 1940.” Bucky smirked at him and walked away.

Steve frowned. The old Bucky would never have mocked him for not being able to get laid. 

But the advice hadn’t changed all that much.

\--

“What did you want to talk about, Steve?” Coulson asked, his voice businesslike.

“This isn’t about anything… official. It’s more… personal.” Steve swallowed nervously. _Crap. This really is just like I felt in 1940._

“Okay,” Coulson said.

“So, um, I’m going to tell you something, and I really hope you’re not offended,” Steve said.

“All right. I welcome honesty.”

“Yeah, we’ll see. Okay, here’s the thing. Sometimes, it makes me a little uncomfortable when you um….”

A look of realization passed over Coulson’s face. “When I act like an ‘obsessed fanboy,’ as Tony likes to put it.”

“It’s not that I don’t appreciate it.”

Coulson swallowed. “I – uh – sometimes the other agents poke fun, but I assumed you didn’t mind. I’m – I’m sorry.”

“I don’t mind! I don’t. It’s just. It relates to the other thing I wanted to tell you.”

“Okay.”

“I – um…. I would be very honored if you would go on a date with me.”

Coulson stared at him for a moment. Finally, he said, “You want to go on a date with me. But you want me to not make you uncomfortable on our date.”

“Yes. I mean, I don’t want you to hide how you feel – I just—um….”

Coulson nodded, understanding. “You want me to treat you as a person I’m getting to know, without fixating on the persona I’ve read about.” He looked regretful, but also, somehow, compassionate.

“I mean, during a mission you do this. All the time. You know when I’m about to do something I shouldn’t, but you also know when it’s okay to let me take a risk. You see my flaws and my strengths and how I feel about things. I never feel uncomfortable when we’re in the field.”

Coulson smiled. “So you fell for me at work?” he teased.

“Yes,” Steve answered. “Mostly.”

Coulson thought about this. “Are… um, are you sure that you just aren’t responding to the fact that I, uh, give orders in the field?”

Steve smiled. “Picked up on my preferences, did you?”

“It’s not that I’m not happy we’re … compatible, but--”

“I take orders from Fury and Hill, but I’m not asking them out. And JARVIS is kind of bossy too, now that I think about it. But what I mean is, it’s more than just ‘compatibility.’ You're the person I want to date.”

Coulson smiled. He looked relieved, grateful even. “I would be very happy to go out with you, Steve.” The name rolled off his tongue easily, and Steve felt grateful too.

\--

They dated for a month before Coulson asked Steve back to his place. They sat drinking coffee from Coulson’s espresso machine and talked, easily, full of laughter and sexual tension.

Eventually, Coulson said, “So, can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“That thing we talked about when we started this? About seeing you and who you are now? Do you think we’ve made some progress?”

Steve smiled. “I haven’t once felt like a propaganda poster.”

Coulson smiled back. “Good. I want you to feel like you can be yourself.”

“I do. And I like to think so do you. But I suppose there’s something we still need to find out.”

“What’s that?” Coulson asked.

Steve took a deep breath. He dug out the courage that was trying desperately to flee, and said, “I think we need to find out if you’re willing to smack your childhood hero around.”

Coulson paused, stared. He wasn’t expecting the question, and for a second, Steve wondered if he made a big mistake.

But Coulson just put his coffee down, leaned forward, and said, “Well, first we’ll have a long conversation about limits and fantasies and safewords. Then, we’ll take it slow and easy the first few times. But yes, once we’re used to each other, I am going to top the living hell out of you.” His voice went hard, all certainty and threat, and Steve felt a stir of arousal, undeniable.

Steve spoke, voice suddenly dry: “Then I guess we should get started with the talking.”


End file.
